


the world that you need is wrapped in gold silver sleeves

by kingofghosting



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Canon Asexual Character, Christmas Party, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta we die like archival assistants, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, The Mechanisms - Freeform, Trans Martin Blackwood, also kinda - Freeform, basira and georgie and jon were in a band, i love winter ok dont @ me, im so tired of pain i just want some comfort, no avatars, thats not important to the plot i just thought i should mention hes trans, we stan jon, yes it is summer but im writing about christmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingofghosting/pseuds/kingofghosting
Summary: Tim had always been the flirty type. There was nothing wrong with that, other than the fact that every time it landed him in a confusing hole of “Do I like this person, or do I just believe they’re attractive?”It was hard, juggling all these feelings at once.On one hand, he desperately wanted Jon and Martin to get a happy ending. But on the other hand, he really wished that he would someday be able to kiss Martin without worrying about what Sasha or Jon had to say.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (mentioned), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Melanie King, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, mainly martim, tim / everyone tbh
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the magnus archives](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/649123) by jonathan sims. 



> " Two-headed boy  
> There's no reason to grieve  
> The world that you need is wrapped in gold silver sleeves  
> Left beneath Christmas trees in the snow  
> And I will take you and leave you alone  
> Watching spirals of white softly flow  
> Over your eyelids and all you did  
> Will wait until the point when you let go "
> 
> \- two-headed boy, netural milk hotel

When the idea of a Christmas Party in the institute was suggested by a smug Tim Stoker, Jon was not the most thrilled person in the world. However, when Sasha mentioned it to him again, he caved under the condition that it was held at someone’s house. Not the archives.

That was an easy fix. Sasha’s flat had always been on the bigger side, and the neighbors she had were either incredibly laid-back or already out on their festivities. So, as the week progressed, Sasha and Tim worked together on decorating her flat to make the perfect Christmas Party of all time. Sure, the eventual arrival of their strange, all-knowing boss was going to be a little bit of a hindrance and a downer, but they planned to make sure that Elias could not ruin their fun, no matter how hard he tried. 

Tim strung flimsy, sparkly garland across the wall as Sasha approached him, dangling something in her hands.

“Where do you think we should put this?” she asked, not waiting for him to turn around. “I mean, there are loads of places it could go, but I also don’t really want people wandering around my house to ‘check out the decorations.’”

Tim turned to see Sasha holding mistletoe in her hand, rolling his eyes. “Mistletoe? Seriously? What are we, 17? Or are we 59 and widowed?”

“I thought it would be cute! It could stir up some drama, or possible romance! Just think about it- It could seriously add to our ‘will they - won't they’ dynamic!”

Tim thought for a moment, mind flashing to his two ditzy coworkers. He loved the two of them with all of his heart, and he really wanted to see something happen between them. He and Martin had frequent conversations about how deeply Martin had fallen for his grumpy boss, how he would check in on Jon to find him knee-deep in paperwork at closing time, how he cared so much about the man who showed little to no interest. Jon, on the other hand, berated Martin for his “horrible work ethics” and then going into some spiral about how the poor guy was doing it all wrong. All this did, though, was show Tim that Jon paid special and close attention to almost everything Martin did. It was obvious the two had it bad for each other, but it also made Tim think and consider his own feelings.

He had always been the flirty type. There was nothing wrong with that, other than the fact that every time it landed him in a confusing hole of “Do I like this person, or do I just believe they’re attractive?” It was a hard thing to tell between his coworkers. He knew he was polyamorous, and there was nothing wrong with that. He knew that he definitely had some kind of interest in Sasha, and he assumed that she had an interest in him as well. He adored Martin and found him quite cute, always finding some feeling to protect him against Jon’s cruelty. But on the subject of Jon, Tim also felt a very close connection with his boss (which was very unprofessional). It was hard, juggling all these feelings at once. On one hand, he desperately wanted Jon and Martin to get a happy ending. But on the other hand, he  _ really  _ wished that he would someday be able to kiss Martin without worrying about what Sasha or Jon had to say. Not that Sasha didn’t also know about his possible-maybe-crush on Martin. If you were to look behind Tim’s flirty charm, you’d see how deeply he had it for the marshmallow.

Tim was brought back to reality by Sasha snapping her fingers and waving in front of his face. 

“Tim? Hellooo?”

“Uh- Sorry. What were we talking about?”

“Where do we hang the mistletoe?”

With a quick glance around the room, Tim pointed. “What about there, in the trabeation to the kitchen? Not a lot of people are going to be coming in and out of there at the same time, if at all.”

She laughed as Tim tilted his head in confusion. “Are you looking at Smirke’s architecture again? What the hell is a trabeation?”

“It’s the uh. The doorway thingy, with no door. A hallway is an incorrect description, as it’s not a hall, but a doorway isn’t a good description either because there’s no door. Obviously its a transfer from the living room to the kitchen, but there’s no door. A trabeation is basically just- two columns and a straight top, only right angles, no curves.” Tim rambled, Sasha listening carefully. She nodded, not wanting to dismiss his information.

“I see what you mean, but you didn’t have to say ‘trabeation’. I would have known what you meant by 'doorway'.”

“Well, I didn’t want to give you false directories! Excuse me for trying to use academically correct phrases!”

The bickering went on for a while as the two continued to decorate Sasha’s flat, a friendly air to it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim found himself, once again, drifting from person to person.  
> It was an easy thing to do, to drift at parties, but it wasn’t necessarily a satisfactory thing.

When the 25th of December rolled around, Tim and Sasha had crowned themselves king and queen of decorations. The Christmas lights strung across Sasha’s front door frame flashed and flickered softly. The tree tucked in the corner, the table with a lace cloth and plastic candles to prevent the fires Jon had been so concerned about during his birthday celebration. Expensive drinks were matched with cheap red plastic cups, and bowls of food were on the island counter of the kitchen. Garlands and strings of popcorn had been taped to the wall, Sasha not wanting to damage her flat. After a while of debating, the two decided to hang the mistletoe on the lintel of the hall doorway leading to the bathroom and bedrooms.

Slowly but surely, people began to arrive. They came in waves, but eventually, almost all of the archival staff were in Sasha’s flat, either chatting in the living room or eating snacks in the kitchen. The atmosphere was peaceful, even with Elias being a wallflower and just… watching. Sasha had even invited some other people Tim didn’t know all too well and was currently talking to a shorter woman with dyed blue hair. 

But as Tim scanned the ‘crowd’ (there really weren't  _ that many  _ people working at the institute, but it was easier to classify it that way), he noticed something. There was no sign of his grumpy boss, or Martin. That made Tim slightly worried, but only a second as the door was loudly knocked at. With a loud “I’ll get it!” to the crowd, Tim fumbled with the doorknob and swung it open to a sight he wasn’t sure how to process.

In front of him was a taller woman with a hijab, and beside her was a shorter blonde woman with the aforementioned Jonathan Sims slung over her shoulder.

The blonde woman growls as she reaches into her vest pocket and pulls out what seems to be a wallet, before flashing a golden badge at Tim. “You the owner of this place? Got a noise complaint.”

Tim is bewildered, only for a moment, before the hijabi woman nudges at the shorter and sighs. “Tim, right? We just came to have fun, make sure Jonny doesn’t get himself in any trouble.”

“Basira, I’m  _ fine,  _ oh my god this is so embarrassing- Hello Tim.” Jonathan thrashed in the shorter woman’s grasp, her seemingly unbothered. 

“Well, Hello boss! I didn’t know you even had friends outside of the archives. I’m sure you two know then, I’m Tim. Timothy Stoker.” He finger guns to the two, winking. 

“I’m Basira. This is my partner, Daisy.” She gently took Daisy’s free hand. Tim got the hint. “I knew Jon in college, and we never really split.”

A voice came from behind Tim. “Is that you, Basira?”

Daisy, finally, put Jon down. He stumbled a little, Tim quickly stabilizing him and giving him something to hold onto. When Jon was standing upright, he quickly withdrew from Tim and acted like it never happened. Tim was, admittedly, a little hurt by this, but it was better to act like he didn’t care. 

Turns out the voice he heard had been Georgie, someone that the girl with blue hair had brought. Tim didn’t remember being introduced to either of them, but according to the small “Hello, Georgie,” that came from Jon, he assumed that Georgie was the black woman who approached them. Tim ushered them all inside, to where they migrated to a corner of the room and just talked, drinking happily. 

Tim found himself, once again, drifting from person to person. It was an easy thing to do, to drift at parties, but it wasn’t necessarily a satisfactory thing. Sure, Tim absolutely adored being able to get along with his coworkers and know the latest gossip on the library side, but he also wished he had a more concrete group that actually enjoyed talking. Sasha was always there for him of course- she always had been. But she was currently talking to Sonja, the head of artifact storage, and Tim didn’t want to disturb her. 

That was another thing- Everyone expected Tim to be the kind of outgoing person where he just doesn’t care about people’s relationships. They assume he just inserts himself when he thinks he’s needed, and everyone’s okay with it because ‘He’s the hot one.’ Tim was more than that. He was more than just ‘the hot one.’ He cared deeply about all of his friends and the people he loved, it’s not like he was just a flirty bastard who just wants people to sleep with him. He has a heart, and a soul, and a brain, and a fully-fledged personality. With a sigh, Tim took a sip of vodka that had somehow gotten in his hands while he was wallowing. It burned his throat, but it was something that brought him out of his self-pity. 

Then there was Jon- Who was curled into the corner of a couch, just closed in on himself. Tim had no idea what could’ve been going on in his boss’s head, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t good. He considered approaching Jon, but the way that Jon had quickly brushed Tim off when he helped him sturdy himself was still a fresh wound in his mind. Tim knew that it was normal behavior for his boss, to be crabby and never truly accept help. But that was just another thing to make Tim worry. God. He never stops worrying about his friends.

Speaking of worrying about his friends, wherein God’s name is Martin Kartin Blackwood?? He normally was a late arrival, but the party had been going on for at least an hour. It was scheduled to go on for a few more, but Tim was starting to get worried that the other would miss all the action. Not that there was any action so far. What Tim had  _ planned  _ for was this;

Martin would arrive, fashionably late. Tim would usher him in, make sure he’s warm, and set up with a drink. They would talk, Tim would laugh loudly at a silly thing that Martin says, and all the attention would be on the two of them. Martin would blush, and get flustered, and Tim would just hold his hand and keep talking to him, keeping eye contact. And it would be peaceful.

However, that’s not what happened. That’s not what happened at all. Martin is nowhere to be found, and Tim is worried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :] what do u guys think happened to martin? i would love 2 hear ur thoughts :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try to give the tim / everyone tag some substance here, despite this being martim focussed!! i hope you all enjoy :)

“Tim.”

The voice started Tim so far out of his skin, he felt his conscious pull his brain back like a rubber glove on wet skin.  _ Gross, what the fuck? Oh. Someone’s trying to get my attention. _

Jon stood in front of Tim, somehow towering feet above him. When did Jon get that tall? Wait, no. When did Tim sit down on Sasha’s cold wooden floor? 

“Oh hey. What’s up, boss?” Tim asked casually, trying to act like he didn’t just panic about his crush’s late arrival. No. Martin’s not Tim’s crush. Tim just… dreams of kissing him in the moonlight, that’s all. 

_ Okay, Stoker. Stop trying to deny you’re in love with your best friend. You’re tipsy. _

“Tim, I… Are you alright? You aren’t normally the type to just sit down at parties. Or bars, or anywhere. Something’s wrong, and I don’t know where Sasha is. So I’m asking you.”

Tim chuckled softly. “You, Jonathan Sims, are worried about  _ me?  _ What crawled in  _ your _ brain and took over your flesh prison?”

“Not funny, Stoker.” Jon cut his eyes at Tim, who sighed. 

“Alright, alright. I’m just. I’m worried about Martin. He’s late, and I just… What if the worms got him again?”

Jon sighed, rolling his eyes again and offering his hand to Tim. Tim blinked at it for a second, before gratefully using his boss’s leverage to pull himself upright. He’s shocked he doesn’t pull the archivist down, but it wouldn’t have been something he’d complain about if it were to happen.

God, and that was just another thought that got Tim’s mind racing. I mean, how unlikely is it that the least conventionally attractive and grumpy person in the archives is actually the one that everyone fawns over. Martin’s got it  _ baaad  _ for the Jarchivist, and Tim thinks he’s cute in an “aww look at this tiny angry kitten fuss about nonsense” way. There’s no telling how Sasha feels about Jon. They like each other, that part is quite clear. Sasha is the only one that can walk into Jon’s office unannounced without getting any sort of huff or puff about it. Speaking of Jon’s huffing and puffing-

Well, he wasn’t huffing or puffing at Tim. He was just... Looking. Not in the “I’m watching your every move to make sure you’re doing your job right” way, or the “I cannot look away from your absolute and utter stupidity” way, but in a worried, “I care about you” way. It made Tim’s heart skip a beat, which was incredibly frustrating. Curse you, hopeless romanticism. 

“I don’t think Martin is getting eaten by worms again, Tim. He’s probably fine. Traffic on Christmas nights can be bad.” Jon, slowly, put his hand on Tim’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. It wasn’t necessarily reassuring, but it did anchor him to the feeling.

“It can?” He laughed softly, tilting his head.

He moved his hand, beginning to gesture while he talked. “I mean, people can be leaving their hotels already on their way home, or there’s always reckless drivers at this time of night-”

“Ohh god. You don’t think Martin got into a  _ car accident,  _ do you??? Oh god, please tell me--”

“Martin didn’t get into a car accident, Tim. Calm down. Breathe. Look at me, and breathe.”

Tim found himself staring into Jon’s eyes, his breathing slowing and evening out. He didn’t even notice he had been hyperventilating. But… Jon did manage to make him feel calmer. Even past his racing heart, who couldn’t help but notice that in the heat of the moment, Jon had taken his hands into his own. 

Jon gently brushed his thumb over the back of Tim’s hand. “Look I- As unprofessional as it is to say, Tim, would you… Would you care for a drink?”

Such a sentence was enough to bring Tim back to his senses. “I am still not convinced you are the real Jonathan Sims. Who are you, and why are you wearing my boss’s skin and acting all nice to me? If you’re going to steal Jon’s skin, you might as well act like him too. Or is this a facade to steal my skin too? Are you a skin collector, like some kind of sadistic stamp fanatic?”

“Tim. I’m serious.”

“See! You just admitted it. You aren’t the Jonathan Sims you claim to be!!!”

“Oh my god. Come on.” He pulled Tim, softly, through the people into the kitchen.

Somehow, the kitchen was empty. Tim wasn’t sure if they had all cleared out because they knew about Jon coming, or if they had found something better to do in the living room. Possibly the latter, because they all seemed to be crowded around the center table, chanting. Tim thought he saw the blue-haired woman from before with an unopened can in her hand. That... Yeah. That checks.

Jon grabbed an already half-empty bottle and opened a cabinet labeled “glasses,” standing on his toes as he reached for a shot glass. He struggled. Tim chuckled softly at this, pulling two glasses down for the other. Jon mumbled a quiet “thank you.” Before he poured the drink into the glasses. He passed one to Tim, and they softly clicked their drinks together before quickly downing them. Jon shuddered at the horrible taste. Tim was used to it. 

“Alright. Now, Tim, spill. What are you so worked up over? I mean, I know you care about Martin, but… why?”

Tim was taken aback by Jon’s question. He thought for a moment, searching for words. “I mean, I’d never wish for anyone to be hurt. And he doesn’t seem like the type to just… not show up, you know? I would have gotten a message, or a heads up, or something. But I didn’t get  _ anything.  _ And I… I mean, I was really looking forward to spending time with him.”

“Don’t you, Martin, and Sasha go out for drinks every two weeks?”

“Well,  _ yeah,  _ but this is different. He’s just… he’s very special to me, Jon. I’m sure you… You’ve got to understand, right? Like, we all know that your critical reviews of Martin are just a facade. Well, Martin might not know that. But everyone else does.”

Jon pursed his lips as he thought, not really expecting this to be turned to him. “...Well, yes, I do care about Martin. I care about all of the people at the institute, but especially you three.”

“So you can’t blame me for being worried about him! Martin always seems to get the short end of the stick, no matter what the situation. But he still… He braves it with a happy face and keeps on going. He’s just so positive. I mean, he can be pessimistic at times, but we all can be.”

Jon nodded, slowly. To show he was still listening.

“He cares so much about people. Especially you, Jon. I just… I want to be there for him. He seems… I want to be there for him, like he’s there for us. You know?”

“... Yeah, I do know. I understand completely where you’re coming from, Tim. I… I feel the--”

There’s a quiet knock on the door, but Tim and Jon both hear it with ease. Maybe they weren’t necessarily listening for it, but they heard it. The peaceful quiet of the kitchen quickly crashed around them as the life of the party came back into focus. Jon simply nodded at Tim, as he shuffled to go open the door.

As Tim swung the door open, his heart melted.

  
  


There, illuminated by the dancing lights hung on Sasha’s doorframe, was Martin, prepared to knock again. He quickly drew his hand back and looked up at Tim, face flush.

“H… Hi.” He gave a small wave before Tim quickly dragged him inside. Tim could tell from how pink Martin’s cheeks and ears were, he must’ve been freezing. Tim quickly grabbed a weighted quilt and wrapped it around Martin, rushing to get him a warm drink.

_ (It wouldn’t be until way later that Tim was to find out the pink in Martin’s face was not from the cold, but from blush.) _

When Martin was starting to get cozy and the noise of the party was less loud shouting and more of a buzz of talking, Tim sat by Martin casually.

“Tim, I--”

“Martin… You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to. It’s not fair of me to… To just leave you guys alone with no warning like that.”

“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

Martin smiled softly. “Y… Yeah, I suppose. I just feel bad. You seemed really excited about me coming, and then I show up three hours late.”

“That’s okay! The important thing is you got here, safe and sound. Right?”

Martin stared into his cup.

“...Right, Martin? You aren’t hurt, are you?” Tim turned to face him, inching a little closer. 

That got Martin’s attention. He set the cup down as he spoke. “Huh? No- No, I’m fine,” he chuckled softly, “Really. I’m alright, Tim. Just… ugh.”

“Do you want to…”

He nodded before taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah. Yeah. Well uh, my mother. She’s in a home. I wanted to uh- to call her, wish her a happy holiday and such. So I did. And it… It took a while for them to finally get on the phone, and when she did, it just… She was so obviously disinterested in what I had to say. I tried to ask her about her own things, and she blew me off, just being so hateful. Then told me they have a curfew and she had to go to bed. Hung up on me before I could say goodbye.”

Tim carefully moved a hand to Martin’s knee, listening carefully. Martin balled the quilt in his fists as he spoke.

“I don’t… I don’t get it, Tim. You can spend your whole life caring about someone, and they never even say ‘I love you’ back. I get that it’s a hard thing to say for some people, but should you really resent saying it so much to someone who’s family? Someone who- who- Who sacrificed so much of their life, just to blow them off with a sour ‘Merry Christmas, Martin’ and then just  _ hang up?  _ It’s doesn’t make sense, Tim! And it’s just… it’s not fair.”

As Martin went on, his breathing got shallower and he just got more and more frustrated. His knuckles were white against the blanket he held so tightly. Tim gently squeezed his knee, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. When Martin had gotten it all off his chest, one of his hands found Tim’s.

“You’re right. It isn’t fair,” Tim started slowly, picking his words carefully. “But… then again, nothing is. That’s part of why we work at the Institute, right? If you, or me, or Sasha or Jon were to quit the archives, that wouldn’t be fair to any of us. Life isn’t fair, so we’ve got to make up for it ourselves, and do things the ‘fair’ way. Whatever that might be.”

Tim wasn’t exactly sure if anything he was saying was making sense. He didn’t really care, because Martin was looking at him. Just having the soft ocean blue eyes on him made him feel a lot more confident with what he said, even if it was just random nonsense. He tried to be helpful with his advice. He really did. But man, that’s really hard sometimes. 

Tim suppressed a jump when he felt a slender arm wrap around his shoulder, softly touching his hair. He looked up to see Sasha and smiled warmly, scooting away from Martin to make more room if she had wanted to sit. 

“Hello Tim,” she hummed, “and Martin! I was worried you wouldn’t come. Glad to see you!”

Martin gave a meek smile and waved softly. “Hey, Sash. I just ran into some- er- complications.”

“I understand! I’m just happy you’re here.” She slurred softly, moving from petting Tim’s hair to hugging Martin from behind the couch. It didn’t really work, but that didn’t matter. They talked in hushed tones, Sasha occasionally stealing glances at Tim. He had no idea what they were saying, but he didn’t really care. He was just focused on the soft smile on Martin’s face. Tim’s mind wandered as they talked, imagination drifting to happy soft thoughts. Ninety percent of them were simply Tim holding Martin softly in his arms. That’s all Tim really wanted. 

He was pulled back from his thoughts when he heard a struggled laugh from Martin, eyes focusing quick enough to see Sasha ruffling his hair. He smiled as she turned her attention back to Tim. She walked around the couch and sat in Tim’s lap, playing with his curls. He held her softly, knowing that this wasn’t the first time she had decided that he was the best chair to sit on. He didn’t mind it. The weight of someone else was comfortable.

“What were you two whispering about over there?” Tim asked casually. Sasha rolled her eyes and booped Tim’s nose.

“You really think I’m going to just  _ tell  _ you? That’s Sasha-Martin business only.” 

Tim huffed. “It’s not very fair of you to go parading around, whispering to people, and then come sit in  _ my  _ lap like you weren’t just stealing glances at me from two feet away.”

“Ugh, fiiine.” She thought for a moment. Tim wasn’t sure if she was conjuring a lie, or if she was trying to make sense of her drunken thoughts. “I was telling Martin about  _ Melanie. _ ”

Tim’s mind flashed to the blue-haired woman who had been chugging a beer can. “Oh, uh… Blue hair fiery chick? Short, looks like she got lost in a Hot Topic?”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Yes, the edgelord. That’s Melanie. She’s so…” Trailing off, Sasha hummed and leaned against Tim. “ _ You know. _ ”

Tim did know! He glanced at Martin, who was on his phone. Tim wondered what he was doing, if he was texting anyone, or if he was looking at more pictures of cows. Martin had left his phone on the breakroom table once, and Tim decided to snoop in his gallery, see if he had anything scandalous. He scrolled through at least 48 images of cows before giving up. 

Sasha cleared her throat. “Hey, Tim. Tim, I asked you a question.”

“Huh? You did?” He blinked and looked at her again. She smiled, gently kissing his cheek. Their relationship wasn’t necessarily  _ official,  _ but they didn’t need that label. They were happy together! And Tim’s polyam. So he really doesn’t care.

“Yeah, I did. I asked you if you were having a good time yet, but I think I can see the answer to that question.” She giggled, looking at Martin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tim brushed it off casually, but Sasha shot up and looked him in the eyes, talking in a low voice.

“Tim. I may be tipsy, but I’ve seen you steal glances at Martin when you think I’m not looking. And he’s done the same thing. Go get ‘em.”

Without much of a warning, Sasha swung her legs off of Tim and stood suddenly, before stumbling a little. Tim quickly stood behind her to sturdy her, before thanked him and skipped off to Melanie and Georgie. 

While he was standing, he remembered something he wanted to do. He quickly turned to Martin and stood in front of him, offering his hand. Martin looked up from his phone, the brightness lighting his face softly. Tim sighed dreamily, trying not to let the hopeless crush show on his face. Martin looked at the hand offered to him, shedding the blanket around his shoulders and pocketing his phone. He took Tim’s hand silently, letting the other guide him.

You see, Martin would follow Tim to the ends of the earth. Tim would follow him, too. It was a silent, unspoken rule. No matter what the cost or situation, they’d be there for the other, right behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't have anyone beta read this so if you have any input let me know!! this is one of the first fics ive posted and also one of the first pieces of writing ive done for tma, so i hope i did it well. thank you for reading!  
> 


End file.
